Looking For A Fight
by Miranda River
Summary: Inara and Mal interact with each other the only way they know how. Will they be able to see what everyone else sees? Post BDM.
1. Chapter 1

Inara Serra was looking for a fight.

It had been months since Miranda, months since Malcolm Reynolds said more than two words to her.

And she was tired of it.

She was elated when he told her "good answer", happy that she was staying.

Since then, there was nothing. He spoke to her only when spoken to, he never burst into her shuttle and as much as it irritated her, she missed it terribly. She found herself looking to the door, sure that she heard his footsteps.

She stopped taking clients after she slipped once, calling out _his_ name when it should have been the name of Lionel Banks.

Luckily, Lionel Banks didn't notice.

She worked for years on her control-it was the first and last lesson at the Training House.

She had better control than that.

He hadn't noticed. She waited, for weeks after the Lionel Banks incident that she had suddenly stopped making requests for civilized planets, yet he hadn't said a word.

He didn't even call her a whore.

Inara Serra was looking for a fight.

Anything was better than the silence.

She proceeded with her dressing ritual, selecting an outfit that she noticed he paid much more attention to than the others-the sapphire blue skirt with gold thread embroidery paired with the midriff-baring matching gold shirt that she wore the very first day she stepped on Serenity. She styled her hair, making sure every curl was in place before putting on her veil.

"Preparing for battle."

Inara turned around, startled by River's intrusion. The girl, like Mal, never did learn how to knock.

"River, honey. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Wearing down the Captain. Make him confront you. Doesn't want to. Scared you'll go away. Tired of fighting."

She screwed up her face, frowning. "It doesn't stink of sex here anymore."

She walked out, rather, danced out. Inara felt clumsy watching River walk-the girl had the grace of the most professional dancer.

She seemed more normal, happier now. At least, she talked in coherent sentences.

Inara went back to her task, wondering which lip color to put on. She smiled, thinking of Mal's previous brushes with lipstick, deciding to leave it off.

She outlined her eyes in kohl, frowning at her shaking hands. It was just Mal. She'd known him for almost two years now.

Two years, four months and three days.

He probably wouldn't notice. He would just stare right through her, something he did often since Miranda.

All of these pains, for nothing.

She stepped into her embroidered slippers, sapphire to match her skirt. She looked herself over, looking in the mirror.

Perfect. Flawless.

He would find a flaw.

She walked slowly, wondering what she was doing. She was nervous, her stomach uneasy. She wondered, for the first time since she had come up with the plan to fight with him early in the morning when she couldn't sleep, if it would actually work.

She lost more confidence as she walked towards the dining area of Serenity. She couldn't make him fight with her. She could only hope that he would rise to the bait as he'd done in the past.

"Hello, Mal," she greeted him cordially.

"'Nara," he grunted, not looking up from cleaning his gun.

"I don't expect much in the way of manners, out here in the black, but the least you could do is look at me," she snapped.

She hadn't meant to start out this way. She wanted it to be a chess game, of which she held the upper hand, but she had given that up, snapping at him like a shrew.

He looked up at her, the fire she was hoping to find in his eyes was gone, replaced by the stark blackness that faced them outside Serenity.

It scared her. Mal wasn't looking at her, a shell of him was.

She turned, practically running from the dining room, her eyes threatening to spill over the tears that she had been fighting back since Mal looked up at her.

"'Nara! You alright?" She'd run into Kaylee, coming out of the infirmary looking suspiciously disheveled.

Well, at least someone was being loved, Inara though.

"I'm fine," she told Kaylee, thankful that her veil was over her face so Kaylee couldn't see the kohl that was sure to be running down her face.

Kaylee peered at her, trying to see past her veil. "You don't look fine. You look upset. Was Cap'n bein' mean again?"

NO! Inara wanted to shout. Anything but.

"Just his usual self, these days. I promise, I'm fine."

Kaylee frowned, obviously not believing her, but finally relenting.

"OK. If you're sure. I'm always here, ya know, if you wanna…talk."

"Thank you, meimei."

Kaylee smiled, waving good-bye as she went to her room.

Inara went back to her shuttle, the tears freely running down her face now. She couldn't stop them, didn't want to stop them. She wanted to get rid of this ache in her heart that she had ever since she found Mal with her best friend.

He looked so peaceful there, sleeping with her. She wished she had that, didn't realize how much she _wanted_ it until that moment. She'd considered it, sure, in her weaker moments. But she thought she had time, thought that she was the one he was waiting on, that it would be on her terms.

It never occurred to her that he could find comfort elsewhere.

So she left. She fled, just like she fled Shinon, hoping to find some peace in teaching.

There she was just filled with the romantic fantasies of the young girls, fantasies of burning buildings and rogue pirates.

She threw a discarded silk wrap across the room, where it flew and fluttered onto her Persian rug.

"I always liked that color on you. Doesn't seem right to toss it on the floor like that."


	2. Chapter 2

Malcolm Reynolds did not feel like fighting anymore.

He should be filled with purpose-the Alliance was finally shown for what it was, River was on the mend and they would be able to fly without too much difficulty.

But at what cost? Shepard Book, Wash, Mr. Universe…all of them gone.

It almost seemed not worth it.

The one saving grace was that Inara had stayed. He thought that she was going to leave again, now that everything was said and done but she hadn't. She looked at him with those wide eyes of hers and told him that she didn't know.

She avoided him like the plague now, they all did. Granted that the good doctor and lil' Kaylee were avoiding everyone save themselves, but it didn't feel quite right to be so alone.

Zoe mostly kept to herself, grieving him her own way. She would be OK, he thought. Not even death could defeat her.

He cleaned his gun, wishing that Kaylee would come in with the sunshine that would follow her around and chatter at him incessantly, probably some gorram story the doctor told that she thought was the funniest thing she ever heard. Even River, the albatross, with her sometimes crazy speak but for the most part was coherent now.

Not that it meant he understood a word she was saying.

But she came in. She smelled pretty-probably some flower. Roses? Yeah, roses. She was wearing his favorite outfit on her. He liked blue on her. Much better than the red that just reminded him of blood.

She was wearing a veil too and he was reminded of the first time he ever laid eyes on her, how besotted he was by her and still irritated all the same.

She spun him about. Still did. She acted missish around him. Every time he walked in a room she seemed to be walking out of it, never talking to him, not even a hello. She would looked panicked, as if she was afraid that he was going to physically harm her, no matter how much the thought made him sick.

Almost as sick as the thought of her bedding other men.

"Hello, Mal."

Ai ya. Even her voice radiated passion and sex.

"'Nara," he greeted, kicking himself that he could only speak in one syllable.

She stood there for a while and it occurred to him that he should probably look up at her, except if he looked he'd probably say something that would make her angry and leave. Lead him-making him hope that maybe she'd realize that she was crazy about him and he was crazy about her too. Instead she would drop a bomb as dirty as the Alliance bombs during the war.

"I'm leaving."

He waited, wondering darkly what she was waiting for. Probably relishing the fact that she would leave him completely alone.

Again.

"I don't expect much in the way of manners, out here in the black, but the least you could do is look at me," she snapped.

He looked up at her, the breath leaving him. She was magnificent, as always, but her eyes were threatening to spill tears and her lips were trembling. He probably wouldn't have seen these things had it not been for the way the light was hitting her face, so that the veil hid nothing.

He wanted to run to her, tell her that he did nothing but look at her.

But she ran out of the room before he could even say a word.

Women.

He went back to his work, except that a certain Companion was occupying his thoughts.

"You were bein' mean to 'Nara, weren't you?" Kaylee accused.

Not you too, meimei, he thought.

"Didn't say a word," he told her. It was the truth, after all.

"Figures," Kaylee muttered.

"What?"

"Nothin' Cap'n. Didn't say a word."

Mal sighed. There was definitely something wrong with the women on his ship.

He paced around the cargo area, wondering if Kaylee had any of the that wine left.

He heard a giggle from above him.

River was sitting crossed-legged on some crates, smiling down on him.

"Silly Captain."

"Excuse me, lil' Albatross? Just who are you callin' silly?"

"You," she giggled again.

Yep. There was definitely something wrong with the women on his ship.

"I'm your Captain. I'm not silly."

"Yes you are. Down is up. Stage right, stage left. Shakespeare. Comedy of Errors. Lots of them. Doesn't see."

Mal stared at her.

"Silly Captain."

"Exactly what are you referring to, River?"

"A certain companion you happen to be in love with," she replied cheekily.

It's hard to lie to someone who can read your mind.

"Nothin' much to say there, Albatross."

"Don't have to say nothin'. _Doing_, more like."

"River!"

"What?" she asked innocently.

He shook his head, feeling old just by the impulse to chastise her.

He walked away from River, who was still giggling.

He stopped by Zoe's bunk. He'd been doing that more often now, since Wash. Most of the time she would just tell him that everything was fine and ask if he needed anything.

"Sir."

"Zoe. Everything shiny?"

"Yep."

"OK, then."

"She's right, you know."

"Who's right?"

"River."

"You heard that?"

"Her voice tends to carry."

"Well, she is, you know-"

"I think this time she's right, Captain."

"Reckon so?"

"I do."

Mal nodded. Zoe was about the only person he trusted, the only thing he trusted in.

He went to her shuttle.

He tended to avoid it, unsure of what to say to her.

But now he had something to say.

She looked like a sight-and never more beautiful. There was a flutter of silk-a discarded piece of clothing, apparently, that settled on the floor in front of him.

"I always liked that color on you. It doesn't seem right to toss it on the floor like that."


	3. Chapter 3

Inara froze.

Of course he didn't knock.

"Mal," she said breathlessly, picking up the wrap. "What are you doing here?"

Was he blushing? "I came to make sure you were alright. Not like you to run out like that."

"Better than talking to myself."

She thought she saw light in his eyes, that maybe he would finally argue with her, or at the very least say something to her. But it was gone as soon as it came and he turned to leave.

"We'll be heading to civilization again. Any planet you have a 'client' on?"

"What, for whoring?" she asked spitefully.

He flinched, the image of her having sex with some wealth-gorram-son of a bitch made him want to bolt from her shuttle fast-like. Instead he shrugged, tired of this game.

"Your term, not mine."

He turned to leave. He was tired of this. She wasn't' a whore-she was Inara and there wasn't an amount of money in the 'verse worthy of her.

"I stopped."

The whispered words were spoken so dejectedly, so painted as if they were ripped from her under torture. This was a new side to Inara, a side that wasn't in perfect control, a side without a mask.

A side forced to admit she was human.

He came to her, wanting to take her in his arms, yet still feeling like he should keep his distance.

He stood a few feet from her, watching as she played with the wrap in her hands.

"Stop what?" he had to be sure, had to know why.

"Taking clients."

He suddenly remembered that her requests had stopped, no jibes about being on a back-water moon. He had just assumed-she kept up with her rent-

"I was…losing control. A companion should never lose control."

She looked up at him, looking as if someone had just killed her dog right in front of her.

"I was away, you know. I was at the Training House but somehow we're brought back together. I didn't want to spin you about, I wasn't trying to tear you down."

Her voice was so flat, so dead that he wanted to beg her to stop talking. The words echoed of the only time he was ever truly honest with her, admitting to her, unwillingly, that she had such an effect on him.

"Do you want to leave?" his voice was too hoarse, everything suddenly very constricting and tight.

She shook her head quickly. It was foolish, but she didn't want to go back to the training house.

"'Nara," he groaned, letting out a breath as the realization of her answer sank in.

He stepped even closer, almost closing the distance, waiting for her to step back, continuing their dance.

She stepped closer to him, closing the distance, meeting him half way.

It wasn't a practiced kiss, no one that either had control over. It was everything, years of tension and anger feeding the kiss like oxygen to a fire, years of longing and indecisions underlying the kiss, thrilling both of them with the magic.

In so many ways this was her first kiss, the first meaningful kiss. She had kissed so many clients, too many to truly remember. But she knew, for as long as she lived, she would remember the time that Malcolm Reynolds kissed her.

He spun her and her back found the wall of her shuttle. It should have scared her, it wasn't feeding his ego, making him feel like he had dominance, letting her retreat behind a simpering mask, losing herself in his fantasy.

No.

His dominance over her was real, almost too real. No masks, no pretending. He could do with her as was his will.

And she would enjoy every minute of it.

She pushed him back, just a little, just to not feel so caged. He complied, yet she still felt him tighten his grip on her waist.

"Darlin', none of us has control over this thing. Just let it happen, bao bei. Stop fighting," he whispered into her neck, the words branded on her skin.

She nodded, letting go, setting down the shield she feebly raised against him.

She tore off his shirt, feeling the skin that she was fascinated by. It was so different-he was so different from her clients. His skin was rough where theirs was soft, so concerned for her pleasure as much as she was concerned with his.

His hands brushed her midriff, her skin so sensitized to his touch that it border lined on pain.

She raised her arms, hoping that, as thickheaded as Mal was, he'd take the hint. He did, thankfully, sucking in a breath as he did so.

"Ai ya, woman. Ain't no body in this verse as beautiful as you."

She smiled, his compliment meaning more than any of the compliments her clients paid. Inara kissed him again. "Only because the only body you've seen in this amount of detail is yours, Malcolm Reynolds."

He growled playfully, kissing her again, happy that even when kissing they could fight. "Bite your tongue, woman."

"Do it for me," she replied cheekily.

It was playful, romantic and easily the most erotic experience of Inara's life.

She snuggled next to Mal, who was drifting in and out of sleep, half convinced that this was just a dream.

"What does this mean, Mal?"

"I reckon that we're both going to be grinning like idiots for a long while, 'Nara."

She punched his shoulder, trying to bite back a smile. "You know what I mean."

He grabbed her waist, dragging on top of him. "It means that for once you and I put our mouths to good use and I plan to do it again and again." He kissed his way up her neck. "As long as you'll let me."

"What if I decide to take clients again?" she challenged.

He still for a moment, definitely not caring for the thought of her like this with anyone else.

He would kill them before the thought occurred to them.

"Can't stop you from doin' anythin' you were already lookin' to do, 'Nara," he said after a while, thinking that it sounded better than he would kill any man that so much as looked at her.

She smiled, obviously pleased with his answer, kissing his cheek before falling asleep.

He felt sick inside. Did what just happen mean anything to her?


End file.
